


Adrift

by scapeartist



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Indentured Servitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapeartist/pseuds/scapeartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones is surprisingly good at research, even as a young boy forced into life as an indentured servant aboard a merchant ship. Will what he learns set him free?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> While I did mention child abuse in the additional tags, I promise it is nothing horrific or sexual. More it is a by-product of being an indentured servant to a harsh captain and crew. It is also brief. So fear not the warning.

“How do you know where we’re going?” Killian asked.

He and Liam had been aboard the ship their father abandoned them to for a few months, and once he’d stopped expecting his father to come rescue them, he’d started paying attention to what was going on around him when he wasn’t being watched himself. He’d always dreamed of setting sail to see far-off lands, and his father’s promise of seeing the realms was coming true, but not in the way Killian ever imagined or wanted. He was learning what life aboard a ship was like, that was true, but he wanted to know more than the scut work.

The helmsman glanced over at the boy and sighed. “Shouldn’t you be tendin’ ta yer duties?”

“I’ve finished for the moment.”

Without looking at Killian, he said, “Then maybe ya oughter go help yer brother wi’ his.”

“Captain won’t let me.” Neither would Liam, but he wasn’t going to share that information. He was trying to keep from getting Liam into trouble by messing things up as he had several times already since their status changed from passenger to slave. He couldn’t stand watching another bruise bloom on his brother’s skin on account of his clumsiness.

Another sigh escaped the old sailor and he continued to ignore the boy. Killian wasn’t deterred. He watched as the man, Fulton, looked from the compass attached to the helm, to the horizon, then up at the sky. When he moved the wheel three spokes to the left— _port_ —Killian thought he figured the answer out. 

“You use the sun, don’t you?” Killian asked.

“Why’d’ya wanna know, boy?”

Killian shrugged.

“Plannin’ on makin’ yer escape?”

A slight lift of Killian’s eyebrows was all the helmsman needed and his derision rose to the surface.

“Aye, I use the sun. An’ the stars, an’ a good chart, an’ me eyes. An’ more than a little calculatin’.” He turned and looked at Killian, his eyes cold and set of his mouth in a half-snarl making Killian step back. “You won’t be escapin’ anytime soon, boy. Takes years an’ years to learn how to find yer way on open water. And sometimes the water don’t want you findin’ yer way. Sends up all kinds o’ obstacles. Yer better workin’ off yer time than tryin’ ta navigate yer way outta this mess yer in.”

Killian looked down at the deck, troubled. He hadn’t considered using navigation as a means for he and Liam to find their way home. They didn’t have a home. And he wouldn’t know where else to go. He was only curious how the ship seemed to make it from place to place without getting lost when there were no markers on the waters. At least none that he had seen. But then again, he was more familiar with each and every board beneath is feet than he was with what lay outside the ship.

“Killian!” the Captain yelled from below decks.

“Aye, Captain!”

“Get your scrawny arse down here! Mess is over and you have some cleanin’ to do.”

“Aye!”

Killian turned from Fulton and ran to the nearest hatch, climbing down the ladder to the deck below where he grabbed a bucket of water and a rag on his way to the Captain’s quarters. Lallygagging would earn him no favors.

“Don’t you dare let me find a crumb on the floor nor a spot on my dish, understand?” the Captain barked out, his finger wagging close to Killian’s nose.

“Aye, Captain.”

The Captain stalked off, leaving Killian behind to clean up his dinner plates and sweep out the room. Killian could still smell what must have been the Captain’s dinner—beef, potatoes, carrots, bread. Nothing at all like what Killian would probably be eating later. Likely, he’d be having his usual biscuit, cheese, fish, and peas—the biscuit stale, the cheese tasteless, the fish dry, and the peas an unappetizing dull green. He sighed and picked up the dishes, setting them by the door to take elsewhere to wash. Killian wiped down the table until it practically gleamed, then he stepped outside the room and found the broom kept nearby and swept around the quarters, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind.

As he moved by a pile of books, one caught his eye. It was thin, but had a wheel of a ship surrounded by gold stars along the spine. He tilted his head to read the title, _An Introduction to Astronomy, Geography, and Navigation_. He ran his fingers along the rough, dark blue fabric cover, and thought about what the helmsman had said earlier about how he knew where to go. If he wasn’t going to answer Killian’s questions, Killian would just have to learn for himself.

Quickly, he finished sweeping the room, and washed and dried the Captain’s cutlery and dishes, leaving not a single spot. When he put them back on the shelf in the Captain’s quarters, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and he carefully lifted the books atop the one he wanted and slid the small volume out. Placing the pile where it belonged, he tucked the blue book into the back of his pants and covered it over with his blouse. He stood straighter as to not let anyone see the ridge it left under his shirt, and the solid feel of it against his skin made him feel hopeful for the first time in weeks. Killian stuffed it into his collapsed hammock, hidden from view on his way to inform the Captain he’d finished cleaning.

That night he lay in his hammock next to Liam’s, the ship quiet save the sound of the rigging thumping against sails and masts in the breeze, and the regular footfalls up above as the night watch paced the deck. Killian pulled the book from beneath him and tried to find enough light to read by without anyone seeing what he was doing. The low lamplight at either end of the crew’s quarters shed a soft yellow glow that barely reached him, but it was enough. He opened to the first page and began to read.

After a short time, he whispered to his brother. “Liam… Liam?”

Liam shifted in his hammock and drowsily answered. “What? What’s wrong?”

“What does ‘dec…decli…” he trailed off trying to figure out the rest of the word he was stuck at.

“Spell it.”

“D-e-c-l-i-n-a-t-i-o-n.”

“‘Declination.’”

“‘Declination,’” he repeated, letting the word sit on his tongue. “What does _that_ mean?” he asked mostly to himself, as he looked further down the page for the answer.

Liam, half-opened eye trained on Killian, sighed. “I dunno. Go to sleep, little brother.”

All it took was for Liam to suggest sleep, and Killian yawned. “Night, Liam.”

With a grunt, Liam rolled back over and Killian tucked the book under his jacket and closed his eyes. He thought about what he’d read and not all of it made sense yet, but he’d keep at it, keep watching Fulton. He’d figure it out.

The next day, as he scrubbed the deck, he saw Fulton again, this time with a chart open over the wheelhouse, and another instrument shaped like a quarter of a pie in his hand, up near his eyes, that he pointed out over the horizon. He recognized it from a drawing in the book. It was a sextant. Killian remembered that it was used to measure the angle of the sun or a star above the horizon to mark the latitude of a ship. He wanted to see for himself what Fulton saw as he marked the chart after checking his watch, too.

Killian wondered where their next stop was and how close they were to it. Not that he would be able to leave the ship when they reached the destination, he simply wanted to know. He tried to peek over the rail of the ship to see if land was visible, but instead a hand cuffed the back of his head and gave him a shove.

Killian flinched and raised his hands over his head, dropping the needle and thread he’d been using to mend a tear in an older sail.

“Quit daydreamin’, boy. It won’t do to have a half-repaired sail now. Unless you _want_ us to sink to the depths thanks to your carelessness,” the bosun said.

Killian scowled at the man then began feeling around for the needle, free of its thread, which had slipped into a gap between boards. The bosun banged into Killian as he passed by, sending the boy sprawling on the deck. Killian huffed, gritted his teeth, and got back on his knees to pry the needle loose so he could finish his work. He caught Liam’s eye, and his brother looked at him quizzically. Killian shook his head and pulled the needle free.

Later when the boys were in each other’s company while eating dinner, Liam leaned in and whispered, “What was all that about earlier, brother?”

Killian chewed a particularly dry chunk of biscuit trying to give himself time to come up with an answer that would satisfy Liam without bringing attention to what he’d been up to. If Liam knew, and Killian got caught, he’d get in trouble too, and that was the last thing Killian wanted. He took a swallow of water to help the bread down, then answered.

“He caught me daydreaming. You heard him.”

“That’s not like you. What were you doing?”

“Nothing, Liam. I was just bored. It won’t happen again.”

“Aye, see that it doesn’t. Next time might get you more than a little shove. Be careful, brother.”

“Sorry, Liam. I will.”

Killian snuck up on deck late one clear night, dodging the night watch until he found a spot where they couldn’t see him. The moon was half-full, giving off just enough light to read by, and the stars shone and glittered. He gave half a thought to waking Liam so he could enjoy the night sky, too, but was fairly certain his brother would not appreciate being woken up at this hour when he’d need to be up again soon enough. The Captain worked him much harder than Killian, and all it took for Liam to fall into a deep sleep was to lay down. Waking him would take too long anyway.

He opened the book to a spread with all the constellations laid out across it and began matching them to what he could see in the sky. Killian remembered some of the stories his father had told him not long ago about how the constellations got their names, and for a moment he felt a sorrow right down to his bones. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve before he could mar the book with his tears. He and Liam had come to an understanding where they didn’t speak of their father anymore. He knew Liam was angry, he could see it in the thin line of his mouth and hard set of his eyes some days when one of the crew would taunt them about being worthless even to their father. But then Liam would look over at Killian and see the hurt that must have been evident on his face or in the way his shoulders sagged, and he would steer him away from the men and remind him it was their father who was worthless. Killian wanted to believe Liam but it was hard sometimes. Especially when nothing he did on the ship got them any closer to their freedom.

Except for this. Learning navigation might be the one thing that could help them someday, and Killian was determined to master it.

He shut out all thoughts of his father and returned to the book, memorizing the stars and how they worked to plot or stay on course at night. He was finally understanding the relationship between the position of certain stars and where in the realm they were when he dozed off.

Awoken with a rough shake, Killian’s eyes snapped open. The sound of the book hitting the deck with a soft thud made his heart drop and his stomach tighten. The bosun, his thick hand grasping the collar of Killian’s shirt as he picked up the book, hoisted Killian up until his feet barely scuffed the deck.

“What do we have here?” he asked, a venomous glee lacing his question. He gave Killian a shake.

“Nothing! I—“

“Save it for the Captain, boy. We’ve been lookin’ all over for you. Waste of time, in my opinion. I hoped you’d fallen overboard, myself. But your brother wouldn’t do his chores until you were found. Now he’s in a bit of a fix himself thanks to you.”

_Liam_.

The bosun yelled to the rest of the crew, “Found the little bilge rat!”

He hauled Killian down to the deck where the Captain stood, impassive, while Liam stood next to him, the relief on his face immediately replaced with worry. The bosun dumped Killian to the floor with a grunt. The bosun handed the book to the Captain.

“Found him with this, sir.”

The Captain turned the book over in his hands then looked down at Killian.

“Stand up,” he said.

Killian got to his feet but refused to look at Liam. He could feel the tension rolling off his brother, but he wouldn’t implicate him any further if he could help it.

Holding up the book, the Captain asked, “Where did you get this?”

Killian said nothing.

The Captain swung the book hard at Killian, hitting him solidly on the side of his face, catching him unawares. Killian collapsed to the ground in a heap, seeing stars nothing like the ones he had learned of in the book. Liam leapt forward with a shout, but was restrained by the bosun, who put him in a headlock, effectively shutting him up. Seeing Liam in trouble, too, was worse than the pain radiating from his cheekbone. He shook his head trying to clear it.  

His face red, the Captain squatted down and glared at Killian. He held up the book. “This is from my quarters. You stole it.”

Killian looked away, his jaw throbbing.

“You’re not here to learn, boy. You’re here to pay off a debt. And it’s only because that debt isn’t paid that I’m not going to toss you overboard like the waste you are.”

He wished the Captain’s words felt reassuring on some level, but he suspected he was about to wish he had been thrown overboard.

“Oakes, take our would-be navigator and shackle him to our remaining dinghy to remind him why he’s here. Cast him out—no food, no water, no cover for 24 hours. And his brother will be doing both their duties until he returns.”

The bosun released Liam, who looked deflated and furious all at the same time, and grabbed Killian by the arm, pulling him over to the dinghy on the starboard side of the ship. He untied the canvas covering the small boat, dropping it to the deck, and put Killian in, clamping a shackle to his ankle, and connecting it to the oar loop with a heavy chain. A few of the crew lowered the boat down to the water, several of them taunting him along the way. Killian refused to look at any of them. He didn’t want to see their smug faces or his brother’s sorrowful one as he was sure Liam was watching him the entire way.

Bobbing wildly in the wake of the merchant ship, Killian felt seasick as he held on tightly to the bench. After a while, he’d adjusted to the motion of the boat being dragged just aft of the ship. He curled up into a ball on the floor of it, the shackle chafing his leg, and his head still aching as he rested it on the bench he’d been sitting on. He tried not to think about his hunger, thirst, or the fact that his brother was being worked to the bone. Instead, he watched the sun descend on the horizon and the moon rise above him. He fell asleep to flickering light of the stars, sign posts in the sky telling him exactly where he was: adrift.


End file.
